


though it's just a line to you (for me it's true)

by TheJGatsby



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJGatsby/pseuds/TheJGatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's in the play and she's behind the booth. He doesn't believe in superstition and she doesn't believe she can like him any less than she already does. A little Macbeth goes a long way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	though it's just a line to you (for me it's true)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shorelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shorelle/gifts).



> First of all I’m SO sorry this fill is so late. Valentine’s was like forever ago and I’m so so sorry you had to wait so long. Life and lack of inspiration kicked my ass. But here it is!!  
> Title from Something Stupid by the Secret Sisters  
> And check out the [amazing edit](https://41.media.tumblr.com/f4929409a09e3518483e507a2eaf8920/tumblr_o3k0y1Otcj1uhcex7o1_1280.jpg) made for this fic by [voidsnsfw](http://voidsnsfw.tumblr.com).

 

Literally _everyone_ knows the superstition. They teach it in theater class at the junior high as part of the ‘actor etiquette’ unit, and besides that it’s kind of common knowledge. Rey knows for _sure_ that Ben Solo knows it, because not only have they been in every theater class together since sixth grade, but his uncle Luke is the English teacher who lets everyone call him by his first name and has taught theater classes and directed the play for like a million years since budget cuts got the actual theater teacher fired. There is absolutely no way Ben Solo does not know that saying “Macbeth” in a theater will curse the production.

And yet, he does it.

Rey isn’t there when it happens, but she hears about it from her friend Finn, who was there while his boyfriend Poe explained to some hapless freshman what “the Scottish play” they were talking about reading in their lit class was. Ben had rolled his eyes and said something derisive about how it was just a stupid superstition, and Poe had whacked him, and Ben, like the petulant asshole he is, had replied by chanting “Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth!” at Poe’s increasingly horrified face.

They’d just started rehearsals for the spring production of _Much Ado About Nothing_ , and news of Scottish Play-gate spread like wildfire. Within two days the entire cast and crew looked anxious and haggard every time they were in the theater, as if they were just _waiting_ for the cartoon anvil to drop on their heads. Even Ben had the grace to look chagrined and a little nervous when he saw the state the rest of them were in, but for an incredibly fortunate week, nothing happened. Everyone started to relax, assuming that the Powers that Be had decided to smile upon them, and then three awful things happened in a row.

First, there was a minor fire onstage, which, according to popular speculation, had been caused by Hux smoking in the wings during lunch because he didn’t want to go outside. It didn’t do much damage, but it did burn part of stage right and a leg curtain, so they couldn’t use the stage for at least a few weeks until it could get fixed (which, knowing the way their school operated, wouldn’t be until the day of the performance, and only then because Luke is a force of nature when dealing with administration). It was a setback, but Luke bolstered their spirits by reminding them that they could just rehearse in his classroom and would have to just work with the significantly smaller space.

Second, they found out that termites had gotten to some of the old platforms and set pieces they planned to repurpose for this show, so they were out those as well. Luke had looked briefly ill when the assistant stage manager brought him the news, but he sighed and slapped on a smile and told them they’d just have to all come in for more set-building time and make do with what they did have.

Third, and most devastatingly, the girl playing Beatrice was arrested for drunk driving and possession of marijuana, and while no one was remotely surprised, everyone immediately panicked. They were already double-cast as it was, they had _no_ extra actresses to replace her, and the likelihood of someone being willing to play her who _hadn’t_ auditioned the first go-around was slim-to-none. Essentially, they were shit out of luck as far as replacing her.

At the first rehearsal after the holy trinity of misfortune, Luke has the entire cast and crew gathered on the floor of his English classroom. He’s looking out over them with a grave tilt to his head as he says, “I’m sure you’ve all heard of the… events regarding our stage and our set pieces and our Beatrice.”

There’s a general murmur around the room and everyone hears the one kid who says, “It’s _Ben’s_ fault,” so they all turn their heads to glare at him. He grits his teeth and stares straight ahead like it doesn’t bother him, but his bright red ears belie his embarrassment. Luke gets their attention back and casts a withering glare over the assembled teenagers, most of whom shift uncomfortably.

“These are unfortunate setbacks, but as they say, the show must go on, so we will make do with what we do have and make up for what we don’t. Understood?” He goes on to detail the changes to the rehearsal schedule, and as they’re all leaving he calls out to Rey. “Would you mind staying a moment? I need to speak with you.”

She tells Finn to go ahead and turns back to approach Luke’s desk. She’s not entirely sure what he could want from her, since she’s just involved in lighting, so she doesn’t actually have anything to _do_ until way later in the production, especially without the actual theater space. “Yes?”

“Would you be willing to take the role of Beatrice?” he asks, all bluntness, and she just blinks in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He continues through her surprise. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ve seen you act in class and I really think you could do the part justice, and I wouldn’t be asking if we weren’t desperate. Consider it?”

Rey has been involved in every school production since the seventh grade, and she’s never once acted onstage. She’ll perform for class projects, and she gives it her all, but she never had the courage to audition for anything, let alone actually be _in_ the show. So she chews on her bottom lip for a moment, shifting between her feet and fiddling with the strap on her beat-up backpack, and finally says, “I’ll think about it.” There’s a sigh from behind her and she turns just in time to see Ben going back to putting things in his backpack as if he wasn’t listening in on the conversation. He doesn’t look at her and she turns to catch up with Finn.

* * *

 

“So are you gonna do it?” Finn asks, propping his feet up on the dashboard only to have Poe swat them down (he puts them back up as soon as Poe’s distracted).

Rey sighs loudly and leans her forehead on the back of the passenger-side seat. “I don’t know. I want to, but I also don’t want to- like, it would be so cool! Me, Beatrice? _Onstage_?”

“You could’ve been onstage like, eight times already if you didn’t have whatever weird hang-up you have about auditioning,” Finn points out, and Rey sticks her tongue out at him, even though he can’t see her.

“But there’s also the fact that I didn’t audition, and I don’t want that to undermine my legitimacy, and what if I’m really not good enough, and who’ll design the lights?” she continues, picking anxiously at a thread coming loose from her torn, paint-stained jeans. She’s lucky ratty clothes are in vogue, because she can’t afford to buy new things until hers are literally in shreds.

“Everyone loves you,” says Poe, “and you’ve basically lived in the auditorium for years. There’s no way anyone would think you didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re absolutely good enough, and finding a new lighting designer we’ll be cake, we’ll just have Poe sweet-talk one of the kids in the AV club into doing it,” continues Finn dismissively.

“I’d be more than willing to lend my masculine wiles to the cause.”

“Okay, well, there’s still one other very huge problem,” says Rey. She lets the pause hang dramatically in the air for a moment before finishing with, “Ben Solo.”

Poe sighs loudly and Finn grimaces. It’s an argument they’ve had before, and one they’ll probably be revisiting until the eventual heat death of the universe. “He’s not that bad! I really don’t understand why you refuse to even _try_ , Rey, if you’d just give him the chance he can be really nice! Finn likes him, don’t you, Finn?”

“Leave me out of this,” Finn protests. “I’m Solo Switzerland, babe, you know that.”

“He’s a pompous, condescending, insufferable-”

“He’s just scared of you-”

“ _Asshole_ , who can’t control his temper, and who-”

“It’s not his fault he didn’t realize you were teasing-”

“Thinks his opinion is just something-”

“Just because he’s not very good at humility doesn’t mean-”

“So much _better_ than the rest of the world, and he’s so _entitled_ -”

“He really doesn’t-”

“Enough!” Finn snaps, interrupting them both mid-rant. “You’re tearing this family apart!”

“Ben _Solo_ is tearing this family apart,” Rey quips back, wrapping her arms around Finn from her position in the seat behind him. “But I’ll concede the battle this time, for you.”

“I really think you should do it, if for no other reason than to resolve this stupid thing you have about him,” Poe says. “You want to do the play, so do the play- you’ll get to act, and maybe spending time with him will show you that you were wrong about him.”

“Or it’ll show me that I was _right_ and he’s a _bastard_.”

Poe narrows his eyes as he pulls up in front of his house and puts the car in park. “Put your money where your mouth is, Niima.”

“Fine,” she shoots back. “I’ll do the play, and if, at the end of strike, I still hate Ben, I get the X-Wing for a month.”

Poe sucks in a scandalized breath. “Fine. If, at the end of strike, you like Ben, then you have to cat-sit BB when I go to Guatemala this summer.” Rey grimaces. She loves his fat orange tabby almost as much as he does, but BB is the neediest, pickiest fucking cat in the world, and that’s what makes the difference between Rey’s affection for it and Poe’s devotion.

“Deal.” They shake on it and get out of the car, trooping inside to study.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, things are not looking good for Poe’s side of the bet. In the course of six rehearsals, Rey and Ben have gotten into nine shouting matches, thrown things at each other’s heads four times, narrowly avoided two fistfights, and called each other a record _forty-eight_ disparaging names. Luke tends to break up the disagreements with a fond “Okay Benedick, Beatrice, enough with the method acting, just because your characters hate each other doesn’t mean you need to bring the scene to life that enthusiastically,” but they can see that even his eternal patience is wearing thin.

It’s the third Tuesday after Scottish Play-gate when Rey wanders into Luke’s classroom after school to find Ben alone, draped over the sofa in the back of the room with a book in his long-fingered hand, his gangly black-clad limbs taking up enough space to piss her off in a vague, detached way. It’s irrational, but she hates him, so everything he does automatically becomes infuriating. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence. She drops her things into one of the desks, which have been shoved to the side in preparation for rehearsal, and drops herself into the one next to it.

The silence settles awkwardly over them and Rey drums her fingers on the desk for a moment before starting with, “So-”

“Luke isn’t here right now, he’s dealing with some disciplinary bullshit from his seventh-period class,” Ben interrupts languidly, without looking up from his reading.

“Oh,” she says. “Okay.”

The ticking clock and the nervous, rhythmic tap of Rey’s foot and the occasional whisper of Ben turning a page occupy the air for another uncomfortable stretch. She inhales to speak again and he cuts her off before she can. “It’s just us today. Act five, scene two. Which you’d know if you read the rehearsal schedule.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask,” she snaps, irritated. He finally looks at her with his sharp, dark gaze.

“Wasn’t it?” She scowls at him and he turns back to his book with the barest ghost of a smirk. She hates him.

In a lot of ways he reminds her of a cat- the asshole kind, long and thin and graceful in his spindly way, with jutting shoulder-blades and a liquid gait and a brooding, haughty attitude. Ben thinks he’s better than everyone, and it drives her _insane_ the way he’s always trying to correct people and explain things and generally just prove how much smarter and more talented and generally superior he is. He wears a lot of black and the same beat-up leather jacket every day like it makes him cool and tough, and she thinks she might hate him a lot less if that was all there was to him, if she hadn’t seen him in class and onstage take on the face of a dozen kinder men, hadn’t seen the way he and Poe laugh together and joke around like brothers, hadn’t seen him be so many things other than the stilted, cold person he became the minute she walked into a room. It drove her nuts, mainly because she has _no_ idea what she’d done to make him treat her like that- Rey’s a nice person, basically everyone can agree that for all she can be prickly and protective and snappish, she’s fundamentally and primarily a kind, sweet, inviting sort of person, and yet Ben Solo acts as if she personally poisoned his food and spat in his face.

Luke shows up about ten minutes later with hurried apologies, and he looks nervous- for good reason. Rey and Ben haven’t had to have a rehearsal alone together yet, and there’s every chance it will end in disaster. She might murder him. The future is full of possibilities.

For almost an hour, things are civil. They run the scene once, and then they start breaking it down, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in the room the whole time, not just from Luke, but from Rey, too, who feels inexplicably skittish every time Ben’s gaze lands on her- which is a _lot_ , since this is the big love confession scene, and she keeps breaking and looking away and flushing and grimacing and being generally awkward and weird. Ben’s getting gradually more irritated with her, and she can see it building behind his eyes for a while when he finally snaps and throws his script down and snarls, “You’re not even _trying_!”

“I am!” she shoots back. “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“No, this isn’t your best, I’ve seen your best! You can do better than this if you’d just get out of your fucking head and put some effort into it!”

She bristles, getting ready to start shouting, when Luke interrupts with a clap of his hands. “Hey- that’s _enough_ , you two, I’ve had good humor about it until now but it’s getting out of hand. I don’t care what you have to do, but this little rivalry needs to stop before it starts affecting the rest of the show worse than it already has been.”

Rey feels her face go hot and she looks down at her shoes. Ben turns on his heel and storms out of the room, muttering something about getting water and slamming the door behind him. As soon as he’s gone she lets out a long, gusty sigh and rubs at her face.

“I’m sorry, Luke, I am, he’s just so _impossible_ . I know he’s not happy about me being cast but he could at least _pretend_ to tolerate me.”

Luke frowns. “You think that he’s upset that you got the role?”

“Yes! Isn’t it obvious? He can’t stand me, and he can’t stand that I’m playing Beatrice. He thinks I’m- I don’t know, inferior somehow, or unworthy, or whatever contemptuous bullshit, and he’s mad that I didn’t have to audition and he’s mad that I got the lead instead of one of the other girls who’d already been cast and I don’t know what he thinks being a jerk to me is going to accomplish, but I know that I’m the last person he wants to be in the play with.”

There’s a long pause before Luke says, “That’s funny, because he was the one who told me to cast you.”

Rey’s head snaps up, bewildered. “What?”

There’s a small, amused smile playing across Luke’s face. “He insisted, actually. I was going to just move around the other girls in the cast to fill the role, but he practically begged me to at least ask you. Kept talking about how good you always were in class and how you never auditioned for anything and you deserved the chance.”

“You’re lying,” Rey scoffs, but she can’t quite manage to repress the warm bloom of giddiness in her chest, because he’d _begged_ his uncle to give her the part and that means something, right? That means she’s at least a little bit good at this, good enough for someone who doesn’t like her to want her to play opposite him.

When Ben gets back, he looks a lot calmer, but there’s something else in his face, something she might call guilt and embarrassment, if it was anyone other than Ben ‘I’m better than you in _literally_ every conceivable way’ Solo. They try the scene again, and she takes herself out of the _oh my god this is Ben I’m having to say these sappy romantic lines to Ben_ place in her mind and just lets herself sink into the words and it goes so _well_. She gets lost in it, honestly, finds herself a little swept up in the low, passionate lilt of Ben’s voice, the intensity of his face and his hands in hers and his dark eyes like something out of a Gothic romance.

“I will live in thy heart,” he says, so full of ardor it makes her heart float, “die in thy lap, and be buried in thine eyes.” She doesn’t move for a long, open moment, their hands joined, their faces close, his eyes darting up from her slightly parted lips to meet her gaze and hold it there, and it feels like something more than acting.

“Awesome,” Luke says, shattering the quiet emotion in the air. The two teenagers jump apart as if electrocuted, and Rey rubs her palms on her jeans and tries to fight the blush she can feel spreading up her neck. “That was really good, you guys, just a few notes.”

In the time it takes to get through Luke’s notes and pack her things to leave, Rey’s skittering stuttering heartbeat has managed to return to something steady, and whatever weird, floaty feeling she’d had earlier is completely gone. Then Ben coughs awkwardly as she’s fiddling with her bag and she looks up to see him standing in front of her, fists shoved in his pockets, the expression on his face somewhere between ill and terrified. “That was, um… that was good. Today. You were good.” He makes a face that she _thinks_ is supposed to be a smile, but she really can’t be sure.

“Thank you,” she replies, almost guarded. “So were you.”

“I’ll see you later, then, bye.” He practically runs out of the room, and it takes her a stunned second to realize his ears were turning red.

* * *

 

“You may have been right,” she tells Poe, grudgingly, the next day in physics, the one class they share on account of both being enormous aeronautics geeks.

“I tend to do that, sorry,” he replies. “What about?”

“Ben.”

His face lights up immediately. “You like him!” he crows, delighted, propping his chin on his hands. “Tell me all about it.”

Rey scowls and shoves at his shoulder. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m figuring out how to tolerate him. He’s just… not as bad as I thought, is all.”

“That’s a very, very low bar, Rey.”

“Shut up.” She huffs. “Luke said he… that Ben was the one who got me the part? I don’t know. I’m not sure if I believe it. He said Ben practically begged him to let me play Beatrice, cause I always do well in class and everything.”

Poe snorts. “I’m not surprised, Ben’s been enamored with you as an actress since like the seventh grade.”

“Wait, what?” Rey whirls on him.

“Please, you should hear him whenever auditions roll around. ‘Poe, do you know if Rey’s trying out this year? She’s such a good actress, Poe. Did I tell you about that monologue Rey did last semester, the one by Beckett? Rey’s so talented, Poe! Rey this, Rey that, Rey’s the best actress in the world and I’ll beat up the academy with my own fists to get her an Oscar!’” Poe rolls his eyes.

Rey ducks her head, but there’s no way to hide the bright scarlet staining her entire face. “He says that about me?”

“Come on, Rey, don’t act like you don’t _know_ he’s obsessed with you,” says Poe, genuinely baffled. “I thought that was why you hated him so much.”

“No!” she protests. “I mean- I don’t hate him, for one thing, and I didn’t know he was obsessed with me!” She bites her lip and says, quieter, “I thought he thought I was terrible, that’s why he’s so… cold towards me all the time.”

“That’s just Ben,” Poe says dismissively. “He doesn’t know how to be anything other than belligerent or awkward. If he’s not being antagonistic he probably just likes you and doesn’t know how to express it.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking.

“I’m the best in the field of Ben Solology.”

“You’re the only one in that field, Poe.”

* * *

 

There’s not much she can say about Ben for the next few rehearsals except that he’s _weird_. Well, weirder than usual. Or at least a different type of weird. He does a lot of avoiding her and looking anywhere but at her and hurrying out of rooms and generalized running away from her. She smiles at him after a scene and he looks like he’s been punched in the face. It’s gratifying, in a weird way, to finally get some sort of reaction out of him.

Then it’s the sixth Thursday after Scottish Play-gate and he marches up to her after rehearsal with a set to his jaw like he’s going to war, and before she can ask him what he wants he’s blurting out, “I don’t hate you and I actually really like getting to act with you and it just really really bothers me that you think I think you’re not good enough or whatever because I think you’re fucking amazing.”

All she can really do is stare at him.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then he just snaps it closed and turns on his heel and strides away with the kind of purpose that says he’s trying to look like he’s not fleeing in embarrassment but he totally is.

When she looks back out she can see Poe and Finn staring at her with utter glee and confused shock, respectively. She scowls at them and starts out the door with a too-casual “Let’s go, then!” tossed over her shoulder.

“What was that about?” Finn asks cautiously, dragging Poe behind him by the hand while the latter taps insistently at his phone. Probably texting Ben eight million shocked and delighted emojis.

“He just wanted to tell me he didn’t hate me. I don’t know. It was weird. He’s weird. Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

Finn scrutinizes her. “Wait, do you like him?”

“He’s a good actor and he’s not as much of a dick as I thought he was,” she says. “Don’t read into that.”

Finn looks up at the sky long-sufferingly. “I swear to god, Rey, if you have a crush on him-”

“I don’t!” she practically screeches. “He’s just- it’s nothing, okay? It’s just the stupid play.”

Poe smirks insidiously at her. “I dunno, Rey, Finn and Jessika are playing the other couple and they definitely don’t seem to be catching feelings for each other.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Finn says, deadpan. “I’ve fallen in love and I’m leaving you for Jessika.”

“You’re both gay,” Poe points out.

“Love knows no gender.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Starkiller.”

“You’ll cope.”

Rey smiles, relieved that their back-and-forth has taken the attention off her. She casts her eyes around the parking lot and sees Ben in the distance, hovering around Luke’s car and generally looking sulky and alone and before she can reconsider she waves at him. He looks around him as if making sure that it was actually him she was waving at, and her heart twists a little, endeared, when he finally waves back.

“How come we never hang out with Ben?” Rey muses. “Aren’t you like his only friend, Poe?”

“Up until literally last month you hated him.” Rey grimaces. “It’s fine, we had a split custody arrangement, he gets me sometimes, you guys get me sometimes, it works.”

Rey chews on her bottom lip and watches Ben for a moment longer, feeling a tiny hard rock of guilt in the pit of her stomach that her stupid petty rivalry kept him from his best friend. Poe’s got a lot of friends, and he’s really good at splitting his time, but Ben really doesn’t have anyone other than Poe, and Rey’s starting to realize why. When they’d first met he’d been the definition of cruel and petty, the worst kind of twelve-year-old boy, all smart mouth and hair-pulling childishness, but that was a long time ago. These days, he’s… different. He’s buried in a book more often than not, and when she thinks back she can remember the beginning of that, freshman year, after he’d cut ties with Hux and Phasma and their little crew of mean, superior rich kids who like to make people jump through hoops to earn the privilege of being their friend. Ben hadn’t been on her radar much at the time, but she vaguely remembers Hux making a snide remark about Finn and Poe when they started dating, and then Ben showing up to school with a black eye and a split lip the next day, and then she started seeing less of his face and more of the top of his head as he started choosing books over people, the solitude of quiet corners over the cacophony of the cafeteria. She realizes, abruptly, that she’d still been judging him by the standard of that rude, immature tween, rather than the person he is, and she feels immediately, startlingly _bad_ about it.

Maybe Poe was right. Maybe this time she was too harsh. She’ll be better, though, there’s still a lot of time.

* * *

 

It’s an abrupt decision, when she goes to the library at lunch instead of joining Finn and Poe at their table. She finds Ben in the back, sprawled out in the corner with, as always, a book, and he’s so engrossed he doesn’t notice her approaching until she plops down unceremoniously next to him and he jumps about eight feet in the air.

She has to cover her laugh with her hand and he scowls at her, but it’s more good-natured embarrassment than anything. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I think we got off to a bad start. Like, six years ago bad start. It’s stupid, let’s just try again, okay?” He looks at her outstretched hand suspiciously for a long moment, but finally, he nods cautiously and shakes it, and it feels like fixing things she didn’t know were broken in the first place.

That’s how it starts, the two of them in the library at lunchtime every day, at first casual, careful conversations about books and classes and the play, and then expanding, hesitantly, into other topics. She mentions being an orphan, and he tries to smother the reaction, but she doesn’t hold it against him when he fails, and she’s gratified when he changes the subject and doesn’t ask her any questions. He’s a lot more guarded than she is, but she tries to exude the same friendly, open aura Poe has that makes people feel like they can trust him and tell him anything. She’s not sure how successful she is.

Then it’s the ninth Tuesday after Scottish Play-gate, and they’re walking out of the theater, and she sees him heading towards his uncle’s car and calls out after him.

The ride to Poe’s is… comfortable, weirdly. Ben and Finn aren’t quite friends the way Ben’s friends with Poe or Rey, but he fits easily into their dynamic, chiming into the conversation, ribbing at Poe, teasing Rey. It feels like he’s been there for years instead of just minutes, and Rey finds herself feeling a little angry and wistful that they could have had this for _ages_ if not for her.

Poe’s abuela greets Ben like a second grandson, swooping in and kissing him on both cheeks and cooing over how she hasn’t seen him in so _long_ and he’s so _skinny_ and how is his mom is she still single has she taken a vacation _pobrecita nunca sabe cuando dejar el trabajo trabajo trabajo todo el tiempo_ not letting him get a word in edgewise til he’s bright red in the face trying to ignore the unbridled, sadistic delight in Finn and Rey’s faces as they watch him be fussed over. She finally releases him with a ruffle to his hair (too _long_ , Benito, _cortale_!) and heads back into the sitting room to cross-stitch and swear at wrestling, reminding the four of them that there are snacks in the kitchen, as always, and to holler if they need anything. Poe’s abuela is the best.

They retreat to the living room and sprawl out across it, taking up the whole space with their presence, and Ben seems at ease in a way it took Rey and Finn months to get to in Poe’s house. Sometimes she forgets that he was Poe’s friend first, and they’ve known each other basically since birth. It makes sense that he’d be as at home in Poe’s house as his own.

She mentions it to Ben, and he just shrugs it off with an offhanded, “I basically live here half the time, so.” He doesn’t elaborate further, and when she asks Poe about it the next day, he grimaces.

“I don’t think he’d like me telling you the details, but Ben’s family is… it’s complicated. There were some stretches of time in the past couple of years where he didn’t much like being at home, and it was the least we could do, his family was really good to me right after my mom died. You’ll meet his mom eventually, she’s probably the coolest person in the universe, you’d like her a lot. I know you’re not going to be an ass about any of this, because you’re you, but just… it’s all really sensitive stuff to him, so don’t say anything about it unless he does first.”

She figures out, in the following weeks, that it’s more than just that. Now that they’ve expanded their trio to include Ben, there’s no more weird switchoff on who goes home with Poe after school, and it starts to become really clear that Rey and Finn, who live at the same foster-system group home and each have their own weird, complicated negative relationship with it, aren’t the only ones who don’t like to go home for dinner. There are days where he stays for an hour, and then his mom texts and he cuts out gracefully, but there are also days where Rey and Finn leave first, and it’s already dark when they go. She doesn’t ask.

But then one Saturday morning she goes to Poe’s to retrieve him for set-building at school, and Ben answers the door in just a pair of worn-out superman pajama pants that she recognizes as Poe’s mainly because they’re way too short for him. It’s how she discovers that he doesn’t just blush to the tips of his ears, but also all down his neck and onto his chest. Which is surprisingly nice for someone who seems so… gangly. That’s not important.

“Um, I’m- is Poe home?” She can feel her own face getting hot and she tries to own it, fixing her eyes firmly on his, which are looking decidedly elsewhere. “We have, um. The play, set building stuff.”

“Yeah he’s in the shower, he woke up late, uh. Come in?” He steps aside to let her past and she tries not to think about how ragged her paint-stained jeans and overlarge t-shirt are. She’s not _vain_ , but she also doesn’t really enjoy looking like she pulled her clothes out of the garbage this morning. He disappears a moment later into the laundry room and she’s offended by her own disappointment when he returns wearing a shirt. He’s her friend, she doesn’t need to be gawking at him anyway.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, without thinking. “I mean- I thought you went home yesterday after school?”

“Yeah,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. His hair is sticking up all sorts of directions- Poe’s grandma is right, he does need to get it cut- but it’s kind of cute, in that scatterbrained disheveled way. “My dad was home, and we don’t… we don’t really get along, so I left.” He cringes a little. “I’m sorry, you probably think that’s really dumb and petty-”

“No,” she interrupts. “It’s… just because you have parents doesn’t mean they’re always perfect. God knows I’ve fostered with enough shitty families.” She smiles and tries to play it off as a joke, but his face just furrows into a frown.

Just then, Poe comes stomping down the stairs, all damp curls and hurried apologies, breaking up the awkwardness in the room. “Hey, Rey, sorry I’m running late, just like five minutes and we’ll head out, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem, take your time.”

“Awesome, thank- is that my shirt?” He stops and frowns at Ben, who shrugs nonchalantly and wanders off. “Why was he wearing my shirt?”

“He wasn’t wearing one at all when I got here,” Rey mutters, scowling, and Poe grins at her and waggles his eyebrows, earning himself a solid smack on the arm.

* * *

 

The play is a romance, a fact unimportant enough for Rey to forget about, and she is abruptly reminded of it with the revelation that under all his black clothes and bad attitude, Ben is hot. Well, he’s hot over the black clothes and bad attitude, too, but she’d managed to ignore that before. Now she’s just… inconveniently aware, all the time, of the fact that he doesn’t look like he did when they were in middle school, he’s _really_ grown into his height and his nose and his shoulders in the best way, and she might be asexual but that doesn't mean she can't appreciate his looks and it definitely doesn't mean she's exempt from the warm fluttery feelings and generalized desire to hold hands and kiss. Rehearsals become awkward and stilted again, but now it’s not because they hate each other, but rather because Rey’s rapidly coming to realize just the extent and way that she likes Ben. She can see Luke getting frustrated with them, but her imagination keeps doing weird things with all of Ben’s saccharine, lovelorn lines, and it’s embarrassing and it’s hard not to just break character and run offstage to avoid his earnestness and his intense dark eyes and the heady effect of him pretending to be in love with her.

Acting out a romance with your crush is… a lot.

It’s a couple of weeks before opening night and they’re walking out to Poe’s car after rehearsal when Ben catches her by the hand- her stomach does somersaults at that and she curses herself- and slows down, separating them from Poe and Finn. He turns to her with his eyes full of concern and she’s pretty sure he can hear her heart pounding, because she definitely can.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quiet and gentle and worried. “I know I’m probably the last person you’d want to talk to if anything wasn’t, but- you’ve been… off, lately, and I just want to make sure you’re doing all right.”

“Yeah!” she says, a little too brightly. “Yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just- you know. School. I’m tired. Things are stressful. But I’m good!” Internally, she cringes, and wishes that someone would put her out of her misery.

He nods, not looking remotely convinced. “Okay. Well, um. You know you can talk to me about stuff, right? I’m your friend. I’m here for you. If you need somebody.”

Her too-big smile softens, and she squeezes his hand. “I know. Thank you.” He looks like he’s been punched, his own smile tight, and she takes the opportunity to turn and catch up with Finn and Poe.

She tries not to think about the fact that they’re still holding hands when they get to Poe’s car.

That night, though, finds her on Finn’s bed with her face buried in his pillow, moaning wretchedly about Ben. “And it’s the _worst_ ,” she whines, “because he’s Poe’s best friend and he’s our friend and I’m over here with this stupid fucking crush on him, and I can’t just wreck our friendship with my stupid feelings, but he’s still being all _hot_ and _nice_ and _funny_ and I hate him.”

“I know,” Finn says, patting her consolingly on the back.

“Do you know what he did today? He held my _hand_ , Finn!”

“It’s an outrage.”

“And he was all… _sweet_ and _concerned_ about me!”

“How dare he.”

“And he’s been doing this for a while! He gave me his jacket last week!”

“I know, you’ve been wearing it at home every day since.”

“It still smells like him,” she groans, tugging at her hair. “Finn, crushes are the worst. How do I fix this?”

“Have you tried telling him how you feel?”

She lifts her head to glare at him. “Are you crazy? That’ll never work.”

Finn sighs long-sufferingly and rubs a hand over his face. “Right, of course, what was I thinking.”

“Anyway my entire life is a disaster and I want to die.” Rey sighs loudly, dropping her face back into the pillow. “He’s the worst.”

“I know.”

Things are only compounded on the day Ben corners her one day between school and rehearsal, the week before tech and dress rehearsals start, looking like he’s walking to his execution.

“We have to kiss at the end of the play,” he says, gravely, and Rey tries her best to keep a straight face through her storm of emotions as everything from giddiness to dread roils in her chest.

“Yeah,” she says, probably way too aloof, “And?”

“I think we should practice.” Her facial expression must throw him off, because he looks away from her and rubs at the back of his neck. “You know, just- to make sure it’s not. Weird. Or anything. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

He’s starting to turn away, so she catches him by the wrist and pulls him back, one hand on the back of his neck as she goes up on her toes to reach him. When their mouths meet, it’s rushed and unexpected and awkward, and their teeth clack together, and it’s generally bad, so they pull apart immediately with a self-conscious laugh. She goes back down flat on her feet and one of his hands finds her waist, the other on her cheek. The second kiss is much better, soft and slow and cautious, and Rey’s head starts spinning. She sighs into his mouth and he pulls her closer, tangling one hand in her hair, his tongue flickering out to ghost across her bottom lip. A minute later, he breaks the kiss,  and it takes her a long second to open her eyes, and when she does his expression is full of something like awe, and there’s a moment where they’re just… frozen, eyes locked, arms around each other, faces inches apart.

Then he blinks, and his face goes red, and he jumps away from her like he’s been burned. He wipes his hands on his jeans and coughs awkwardly. “Um. Yeah. Awesome. See you later.”

To say rehearsal is awkward that day is an offensively gross understatement.

* * *

 

“He _kissed_ you?” Poe screeches, without preamble, storming into Rey’s bedroom, Finn on his heels.

She jolts awake, rubbing her eyes blearily. “What the fuck, Poe, what are you doing? How did you even get in here?”

“Finn let me in, and that’s beside the point! The point is that Ben kissed you!”

“Yeah, he did, cause we have a stage kiss and he wanted to practice.” She yawns. “Why are you freaking out? It’s not a big deal.”

Poe gapes at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He looks at Finn, then back at her, then back at Finn, then throws his arms up exasperatedly. “You need to _talk to him_ , Rey! He thinks you hate him or something!”

“ _I_ hate him?” she exclaims, offended. “ _He’s_ the one who ran away after he kissed me!”

“Of course he ran away,” Poe says, rolling his eyes, “Ben wouldn’t know what to do with a crush if it had a damn instruction manual. He’s the _least_ emotionally competent person ever.”

Rey stares at him for a long moment, before choking out, “A crush?”

Poe squints at her. “You couldn’t tell when he _kissed you_?”

“He said it was practice!” she protests weakly, but even she realizes how pathetic it sounds. Who _practices_ a stage kiss?

“For fuck’s sake,” Poe groans. “You two are a disaster. Please, please go talk to him.”

An hour later she finds herself trudging down the street towards the address Poe texted her with approximately eighteen angry and despairing emojis. She walks up to number 2187 and is about to raise her hand to knock when she hears shouting inside, and then the door flies open, hitting her soundly in the face and knocking her over.

There’s a moment of shocked, frozen silence, and then all at once the pain hits her, and she’s aware of blood on her face and Ben shouting, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Rey, are you okay? Fuck I’m so sorry here, just-” He’s kneeling next to her, helping her up, and an older man appears in the doorway, and Ben’s hands on her back tense.

“What the hell did you do, Ben?” the man, probably his father, snaps.

“Would you just get a towel or some ice or something?” Ben snarls back, and Rey gets the feeling that ‘wrong place, wrong time’ doesn’t begin to describe where she is right now.

A few minutes later, she’s sitting at his kitchen table with a towel pressed to her face, trying to soak up the blood, while Ben’s mother fusses over her and she tries to tell her, through the bloody nose and towel on her face, that she’s really okay, nothing’s broken, she’ll be fine.

“You see what happens when you get out of control like that?” Ben’s dad lectures, following him into the room. “All the damn time with the _temper_ and the _outbursts_ and people get hurt, Ben! What if-”

“Han,” Ben’s mother says firmly, cutting him off, “that’s enough.”

Ben pulls a chair up next to her and hands the first-aid kit to his mother. Rey can see the cloud of anger over him, his clenched fists and tight jaw, and she offers him a smile. Some of the tension fades from his shoulders and his scowl lessens.

“I’m really sorry,” he says again.

“It’s fine,” she replies with a dismissive wave. “Really. It was an accident, they happen.”

“Too many of them around this kid,” Han, and she can see Ben bristle, but she reaches out and squeezes his hand with a slight shake of her head, and he squeezes back with a small, grateful smile.

Ben’s mother, who’d been watching them silently, stands up and grabs her husband by the arm, pulling him out of the room. “Han, let’s talk.”

They sit there in tense silence for a moment before Rey says, “Do, um, do you want to talk about it?”

“What?”

“I heard you guys fighting. Outside.”

Ben grimaces and looks away. “There’s nothing to talk about. We don’t get along.”

“Is that why you’re at Poe’s all the time?” she asks softly. He nods. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s… he’s gone a lot anyway, so. It doesn’t really matter.” He smiles at her, but it’s forced and fake, and it breaks her heart a little bit.

She pulls the towel away from her face and touches a finger to her nose. “I think it’s stopped bleeding. Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, relieved, standing and offering her a hand. He doesn’t tell his parents he’s leaving, and something about that hurts Rey, but she can’t articulate what.

They walk slowly, not in any particular direction, silent for a while. “He doesn’t like to be at home,” Ben says, unprompted. “It makes him antsy. I don’t think he ever figured out how to… I don’t know, _do_ commitment. He didn’t ever plan to have a family or anything, they didn’t get married until I was two, if that tells you anything, and I wish I didn’t hold it against him, but I just….” He sighs heavily. “My mom is so great, you know? She deserves better. She loves him, and she _tries_ , and he’s always disappointing her or fighting or running away, and I hate it. I hate that she keeps giving him second chances.”

“Love is… complicated,” Rey says, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about the foot of space between them, and the way her heart speeds up when he looks over at her, then back at the ground.

“I always told myself it couldn’t be worth it. If love was why she let him keep making her cry and disappearing into the night, I didn’t want any part of it.”

“What changed your mind?” Rey asks, hoping it’s the right thing.

“Who says my mind changed?”

“You kissed me,” she says, and he ducks his head, his hands fisting in his pockets, embarrassed.

“That was just-”

“Practice?” She’s smiling, fond and amused, and she can see that she’s called his bluff.

He sighs heavily. “I’m not good at this, okay? I’ve never… I thought I’d die if I had to kiss you for the first time onstage. I like you too much to be professional about it.”

“So you kiss me, and then you say ‘Hey, I really like you, we should do this again.’ You don’t _run away_.” He looks ready to keel over from embarrassment, and she tries not to laugh.

“I panicked! You looked so- and I didn’t know what to say, and I thought I’d just… do it better later. I don’t know.” He runs an anxious hand through his hair and it sticks up every which way.

“Okay, so do it now.” She stops and turns to face him. “Imagine we’re back there and you’ve just-” He leans down and kisses her, chaste and sweet. His hand comes up to the side of her neck, stroking gently at her cheek, and hers comes up to cover it.

After a moment, he pulls back and presses his forehead against hers. “Rey, I really like you, will you go out with me?”

She sighs dramatically, putting on a thoughtful expression. “I don’t know, I might have to think about it-”

He’s laughing. “What, do I have to say it like Shakespeare?”

“Now that you mention it, Benedick _does_ have a way with words.”

“Serve God,” he says, “love me and-” She interrupts him with a kiss, tangling her hand in his hair. She’s glad he hasn’t cut it, twisting the soft curls between her fingers. When she pulls back his smile is blinding. “Is that a yes?”

She kisses him again. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://thejgatsbykid.tumblr.com)!


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